Talk Me Down
by spacemonkey766
Summary: He'd been here before. He'd seen that tornado of lightning, been awoken by that sound, lived this nightmare. But even the nightmares we face still can reoccur, can be even worse than before. But sometimes, all we need is someone to get us through that long night.


**Talk Me Down**

 **summary:** He'd been here before. He'd seen that tornado of lightning, been awoken by that sound, lived this nightmare. But even the nightmares we face still can reoccur, can be even worse than before. But sometimes, all we need is someone to get us through that long night.

 **genre:** Romance, Angst

 **rated:** T

 **author note:** Title and lyrics from "Talk Me Down" by Westlife.

* * *

 **The light flashed and I thought I'd died**

 **My life passed before my eyes**

 **It went too fast for the love I feel inside**

* * *

It was late. The sound woke him up.

Glass shattering and wood cracking; a harsh, discordant blend of sounds. The cacophony startled Barry out of his sleep. Springing upright in bed, his mind and vision still foggy with sleep, his eyes searched the room trying to make sense of what had woken him. He was in their bedroom, still dressed in just the gray sweatpants he had fallen asleep in, the room dark with the exception of muted moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains, the faint growl of late night life outside rumbling through the glass. A glance to the right showed the vacant spot beside him, blanket and sheets disturbed but missing the occupant that usually resided on the left side of the bed near the window. A glance to the left revealed the clock on the nightstand on his side reading three a.m.

And then the water in the glass tumbler next to the clock began to float above the cup, a splash suspended in air, and Barry felt his stomach drop.

"No," he whispered.

The crashing and banging erupted again and Barry new it was coming from downstairs. Throwing the blanket aside he nearly vaulted out of bed and made his way down the stairs, bare feet slapping against the hard wood as he took them two at a time. When he got to the second-to-last step, just in view of their entire apartment from around the wall, Barry's heart stopped.

Their loft was lit up with electricity, bright and blinding, charging the air in a painful static. Furniture was knocked over, papers flying, and the whole space in complete disarray. In the middle of it all kneeled Iris, yellow and red lightning swirling around her.

"Barry!" she screamed, crying out for him with her hand outstretched.

"Iris!" he shouted, getting as close as he could to the whirling tornado of electricity. He shouted her name over and over as he watched her, hair flying as the wind gushed around her, trying to brace herself against the vortex circling her. He didn't know if she was screaming for him to help or for him to run, couldn't be sure over the chaos.

"Iris!" he screamed. Why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he get to her? It was like he was frozen in place, feet planted and unable to propel himself through the storm to reach for her.

"Barry!"

He had to get to her, had to save her. But inside the blur, suddenly he saw the man in yellow appear.

"No!" Barry screamed. This couldn't be happening. None of this made sense, Thawne was dead. The lightning and wind continued to swirl their apartment even as inside the blur the Reverse Flash approached Iris with knife in hand.

"No! Iris!"

With a gasp Barry sprang up, heart pounding, chest panting, drenched in sweat.

"Barry!" Iris shouted, a hand braced behind his shoulders, the other resting on his heaving chest above his rapidly beating heart.

His eyes were wild as they darted around, realizing he was back in their bedroom. The loft was quiet with the exception of his heavy breathing and heart pounding in his ears. No sparks, no tornado, no screaming. It had been a dream.

"Iris?" he questioned, his eyes finally settling on her, reaching his hand up to clasp the one she had resting over his heart. Concern painted her face as she whispered, 'its okay, its okay' over and over.

He wanted to assure her he was fine, that it had just been a bad dream, but he couldn't through the desperate attempt to pull in deep breaths. He didn't trust his voice to say anything else because his throat felt raw and he was afraid any words would come out in a stuttering, sobbing mess.

"Baby, you were screaming. I tried to shake you awake but," Iris whispered, moving the hand from Barry's shoulders to comb through his hair damp with sweat, finger tips grazing his scalp. "I haven't seen them this bad since-"

Since after his mom died. She didn't need to finish the sentence for Barry to know that this nightmare was as violent and terrifying as he first had them after watching his mother be circled in red and yellow lightning, screaming for help, helpless to save her before being murdered. The nightmares of Savitar killing Iris were as traumatic, but different. The terrors after he was beaten within an inch from his life by Zoom had been as horrible, but still different. The dreams of Zoom had been fueled by pain and defeat, Savitar fueled by despair and heartache; but the dreams of the Reverse Flash were fueled by a pure fear that manifested from childhood terror and fortified over fourteen years of unknowing.

Iris wanted to ask him if he was okay, ask what he had seen in the dream, but the words didn't make it past her lips as she stared at him. It didn't matter what he saw unless he wanted to talk about it. All that mattered was he was clearly hurting and just needed her to be there for him, like she had for years before.

She watched him take in one stuttering breath after another, his hand still gripping hers over his heart just tight enough to not hurt her. He swallowed rapidly, trying to prevent the tears. But even as he clenched his eyes shut and bowed his head, futilely willing them to hold, he couldn't stop them from spilling as they escaped.

"Deep breaths, Barry," Iris guided as she watched the tears squeeze out of the corners of his lids and slowly trace the contours of his sharp cheekbones before continuing their path over the edge, dipping into the hollow of his cheeks. Iris watched, painfully mesmerized as one on his left cheek made the rest of the journey down his face, dangling over his chin and as one on the right side veered sharply down his cheek to land at the corner of his full bottom lip. She shifted her hand from his damp brow to let it rest upon his cheek, her thumb gliding gently at the corner of Barry's lips, catching the tear with the pad of her thumb. Barry didn't flinch at her touch but she knew how uncomfortable he was, how vulnerable he was feeling.

Since he'd come back from the speed force he'd been the happiest she'd seen him in a long time, no longer weighed down or haunted by the tragedies of his past. He still carried them with him but they were no longer threatening to suffocate him. She had seen him so confident and pulled together. Like tempered glass, four times stronger than he seemed before. But she watched a tiny crack form at the surface and begin to spread as he closed in on DeVoe, threatening his solidity to shatter. The fear of losing anybody else in his life forcing him to act irrationally and prematurely. And with their wedding in less than week, the looming threat hovering over him was what she suspected triggered the nightmare.

"Barry, talk to me," Iris spoke softly, staring intently at her fiancé even though the man still had his eyes closed and head bowed. "Let me in."

Barry pressed his lips tight but leaned his cheek slightly into her touch. His silence remained, still refusing to look at her as he tried to calm his racing heart, tried to scrub the visual of the woman he loved being taken from him in the same way his mother had. That night was the single event that haunted him his entire life, that frightened him to his core deeper than anything else. He was a child when he witnessed it, unequipped to process and compartmentalize it, completely powerless and leaving him feeling without any control. Everything that came after he could handle; as traumatic or terrifying as things got, he was older, had already lived through his worst nightmare, and could face it with an adult mind armed with knowledge and strength. But seeing Iris like that, even in a dream, brought Barry back to that powerless and incapacitating feeling. He didn't know how to voice that, didn't _want_ to give voice to it.

"Baby, I don't know what you saw, but it's over," she spoke to him in a hushed but solid tone, could feel the dampness beneath her palm resting on his tear stained cheek and the heart below her hand begin to finally calm. "It's over."

She knew telling him that it wasn't real wouldn't help because even though it was a dream, his fear and grief at what he saw were as real as anything. She knew empty sentiments of comfort wouldn't help because the emotions Barry had felt for as long as she had known him ran deeper than most, like anyone who had suffered heartache over and over. After almost two decades of friendship, having been by his side through most of the horrible things that he had endured, left with the aftermath to put his broken heart back together, held his hand in every storm, Iris West knew how to comfort Barry Allen.

"Look at me, Barry," she gave his face a gentle shake until he opened his eyes and looked at her with a pain she'd seen before. She recognized it from the night her father brought him home that night. "You are not alone. You are here with me. You're safe, _I'm_ safe. It's okay."

Barry shook his head, closing his eyes once more, crying freely now. His shoulders hunched and Iris moved to kneel so she could pull him into a hug as he collapsed, his emotions overwhelming him. Iris wrapped one arm around his lean body, her other lifting to rest her hand at the back of his head, fingers stroking through the light brown hair, her cheek pressed against the side of Barry's forehead at his hairline. She could feel Barry wrap his arms around her slim waist, fingers lightly digging into material of her silk chemise.

Much like her words and her presence, Barry relished in the solidness of Iris as he clung to her body, burrowing his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder, cheek pressed to her throat as he cried. Iris could feel her own tears falling from her eyes and into Barry's hair, dismissing the desire to wipe them away, focused on providing as much comfort as possible to the man in her arms.

Barry wasn't sure how long they stayed like they were before he pulled away slowly. He lifted his hand to cup Iris' cheek now as her own hands continued to absently scratch at the back of his head and fingers gently stroke across his shoulder blades. Barry's eyes darted between her eyes and lips, both which he craved. Her eyes were dark pools he'd be content to drown in but her lips, those were the source of life. He always found it kind of funny when people expressed that a kiss could take their breath away. With Iris it was the opposite; her kiss was a supply of air, breathed life into him as if he was a drowning man in need of saving.

As if she knew, with a gentle tug of his neck she pulled him down to her lips. He kissed her desperately as she inhaled through her nose and exhaled into Barry's mouth as if she was giving him mouth to mouth, intimate and frantic. The kiss deepened, their lips tightly locked as their tongues explored hungrily. He wrapped his arm tighter around her body, hugging her to his chest as if she was his lifejacket, his hand at her face relishing the feel of her skin as if it was his lifeline. He never needed to come up for air. More precious than oxygen, more essential than the speedforce, she gave him life.

But eventually they parted, his breathing finally under control, his emotions finally under control.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he whispered as he gazed at her with eyes that were filled with a strange combination of sadness and adoration.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Iris soothed, hugging him close as she gently eased them both back down onto the bed. Barry lay on his back as Iris draped across his side, head cushioned on his shoulder. He wrapped his left arm around her, holding her close as his hand absently brushed at her upper arm. Iris lay her hand over his chest once more, right where his heart was beating as Barry brought his other hand to clasp it with his own.

She expected him to say 'I love you', the words he ended and began every day with, words she never tired of hearing because she loved him as much.

"I need you, Iris," was what he whispered instead. She could hear the tremor in his voice, could feel the twinge in his chest below her.

"I'm not going anywhere, Barry," she responded softly, leaning up to plant a whisper soft kiss at his jaw. She could feel his body physically relax beneath her and she hoped that the rest of the night brought him the peace he so desperately deserved.

Iris knew that tomorrow he would move forward and their life would resume, the nightmare left behind. Her bright Barry would shine, the Flash would save the day, and they'd be one step closer to being husband and wife. But it was in these moments she was reminded that even heroes needed saving sometimes, that even though he'd come so far in healing, the scars were still there. Even at our strongest, we need to fall apart sometimes. And that was okay. Because she would be there for him for every low and every high, stand behind him in every triumph and talk him down from every ledge. She would shake him from every nightmare, whisper in his ear and tell him it was all just a dream, and love him enough to make them go away. And she knew he'd do the same for her. Because that is what you do for the one you love. You hold them through the bad dreams and work towards making their reality the kind of dream you don't want to wake up from.

* * *

 **Lay your head near mine**

 **Tell me that it's all fine**

 **Love me while there's still time**

 **It's been a long night.**


End file.
